The title of this CD derives from an exclamation uttered by many Italians when Alfonso Borgia became Pope: “O, Dio mio! La chiesa in mani dei Catalani,” or “Dear God, the church is in the hands of the Catalans.” That’s because thisRead more Borgia, the first of his clan to wield great power, was at the time vice chancellor and royal advisor to Alfonso V of Aragon (and a lot of other territories and peoples he gobbled up). After the Kingdom of Naples fell to Alfonso in 1442 it remained for the most part in Aragonese/Spanish hands until the early 18th century, but you won’t find any evidence of mutual musical influence on this CD. Some of these composers served Alfonso’s Trastámaran dynasty, such as Gabriel Mena and Lope de Baena, while Constanzo Festa worked as a music instructor for another Aragonese noble house, Avalos, before moving on to greater fame as a singer/composer for Pope Leo X. Which is a longwinded way of stating that the album’s theme simply provides a convenient excuse to hear some very good music, compiled in Spanish and Italian songbook manuscripts from a large number of European sources over roughly the second half of the 15th century and the first half of the 16th.

Some well-known names occur briefly among these 34 cuts, among them Josquin, Isaac, and Gombert, along with many others that never achieved their level of international prominence. A few pieces are of uncertain provenance, and several owe their origins to the prolific Anon. Nearly everything is arranged by La Caravaggia—a seven-person wind and brass ensemble—from vocal originals that included solo and multipart songs (not madrigals). Such arrangements were increasingly common in the mid 16th century, with waytes, stadpijpers, Italian amateur academies, and viol and recorder consorts a regular part of the civic and noble spheres of city life. Some selections are familiar under other titles, while several are new to the Renaissance wind consort repertoire.

Variety is the spice of life, and also this album. So the sober, two-part counterpoint of No soy you quien veis vivir, performed on tenor and bass recorders, is followed by the largely homophonic Bella, de vós som amarós that employs the deeper textures of a pair of sackbuts, dulcian, and drum, which in turn gives way to Gombert’s elaborately polyphonic Dezilde al Caballero, pitting a pair of recorders against a shawm and sackbut duo. Very occasionally in lighter material, as in the folk-like La vida de Culin, arrangements progress with each repeat through increasingly complex and energetic textures toward a climax—something that modern scholarship currently considers anachronistic. But it’s possible that performers in broken consorts during the Renaissance noticed how mounting musical tension and improvisation in popular pieces were met with greater enthusiasm from their intended audiences. In any case, it works, and well.

La Caravaggia is a relatively recent addition to the early-music scene. It was founded in 2005 to perform Renaissance and early Baroque repertoire for winds, and has taken part since then in several recording projects with other groups. This would appear to be its first solo recording, and it’s an auspicious debut. The musicians are each technically proficient on a range of instruments, making such mini-ensembles as a recorder trio or cornett duo possible. Their arrangements, discussed above, are varied and stylish, allowing for good use of both lighter wind and darker brass sonorities, as well as various percussion instruments. With excellent sound, this is a learned and lively first release for this ensemble. May it not prove its last.